


till you set your old heart free

by quiddative



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura (Voltron) Lives, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fix-It, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Past Curtis/Shiro, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Season/Series 08, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiddative/pseuds/quiddative
Summary: “You gotta be my best man,” Lance says as soon as Keith opens the transmission. "Hunk already volunteered to do the catering and I don't want to give him more work on top of that. And, before you ask, Allura already called dibs on Pidge and Shiro being her bridesmaid and man-of-honour.”Keith bites his lip. That alone should be reason enough for him to reject Lance’s request. Trying to act like his heart isn’t collapsing on itself like a black hole every time he sees Shiro during their dinners, on top of carefully steering clear of any direct contact with the Garrison on Coalition-related business, is already hard enough.What Lance is asking for is roughly tantamount to self-immolation and Keith, for all that he’s a self-admitted glutton for punishment, doesn’t think he’s quite reached that point yet.(Or: See Keith get roped into working in close quarters with Shiro as Lance and Allura's respective best men. See Keith pine. Pine, Keith, pine.)





	till you set your old heart free

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizuLeKitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizuLeKitten/gifts).



> Hi, MizuLeKitten! I was your Secret Santa! I had a lot of fun writing this (especially since it gave me an outlet for my post-s8 salt...) and hope you enjoy!
> 
> And thank you so much to the mods of the exchange for organizing this!

None of them is surprised when Lance, exactly one year after the Lions dove into the void in Allura’s stead, goes down on one knee after their biweekly dinner and asks Allura to marry him. The diamond ring in his hand is understated but sparkles brightly beneath New Altea’s moon. Keith will later learn that Coran helped him pick it out.

“ _Yes,_ ” Allura whispers tearily. Keith has never seen her look this happy before. “Of course I will!”

As Lance very, very carefully slips the ring on her finger, Keith can hear the others cheering (Pidge) and crying (Hunk and Coran) in the background of this picture perfect moment. Some form of the Lion bond must still be intact within them, because he can feel their ecstasy coursing through his veins, colliding with his own happiness.

Out of all of them, he thinks that Allura deserves this fairytale ending the most.

He startles when he feels something brush against his arm and whips his head up to find Shiro gazing down at him, eyes unbearably soft behind his glasses. Keith swallows against the rapid beating in his heart; he hasn’t been the focus of this kind of attention from Shiro in almost a year.

He’d almost forgotten how _heavy_ , even breathtaking, those gun metal grey eyes are until now.

“And so it begins,” Shiro whispers, grinning conspiratorially. “Who do you think is gonna get married next? My money’s on Hunk and Shay.”

“Not you and Curtis?” Keith asks, genuinely confused and, admittedly, a little bitter.

Shiro frowns. “Me and—”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because Coran chooses that moment to let out a wail that could give a foghorn a run for its money as he sweeps Lance and Allura up in his arms as if they weigh about the same size as kittens.

“Let’s just get through _this_ wedding first before worrying about any hypothetical ones,” Keith says, grinning when Lance lets out an indignant yelp. Allura pats him soothingly on the back, a delighted smile on her face. On either side of Coran, Hunk and Pidge are laughing uproariously.

Shiro blinks at him for a heartbeat before dropping his shoulders and sighing, “Yeah, sure.”

For the rest of the night, Keith determinedly doesn’t think about the very real possibility of one day seeing Shiro walking down the aisle in a white tux, his hand in that of a man who is virtually a stranger to all of them.

A man who isn’t _Keith_.

* * *

One week later, Lance calls him while he’s taking a breather in between humanitarian missions.

“ _You gotta be my best man,_ ” he says as soon as Keith opens the transmission.

“‘Hi, Keith, how are you?’ Not too bad, how are things on your end? ‘Oh, you know, can’t complain, since I just got engaged and all. Speaking of which, would you be interested in being my best man? No pressure, though.’” Keith responds dryly. “The answer is ‘no,’ by the way. Besides, I figured you’d ask Hunk.”

“ _I would but he already volunteered to do the catering and I don’t want to give him more work on top of that,_ ” says Lance.

“What about Pidge?”

“ _Allura already called dibs on her being a bridesmaid. And, before you ask, Shiro is also out because he’s going to be Allura’s man-of-honour._ ”

Keith bites his lip. That alone should be reason enough for him to reject Lance’s request. Trying to act like his heart isn’t collapsing on itself like a black hole every time he sees Shiro during their dinners, on top of carefully steering clear of any direct contact with the Garrison on Coalition-related business, is already hard enough.

What Lance is asking for is roughly tantamount to self-immolation and Keith, for all that he’s a self-admitted glutton for punishment, doesn’t think he’s quite reached that point yet.

“My answer is still ‘no.’”

Lance rolls his eyes. “ _Come on, man, you owe me._ ”

Keith sputters. “For what?”

“ _For the number of times I saved your ass,_ ” Lance tells him simply, conveniently ignoring the fact that Keith’s saved _his_ ass just as many times, too. “ _And I want this to be special,_ ” he adds more quietly.

“You’re getting _married_ to the last scion of the Altean royal family. How is that not already special?” Keith asks incredulously.

“ _I mean special for Allura,_ ” Lance clarifies, and that stops Keith dead in his tracks.

Allura has sacrificed so much to the war since before they even met her. Even with Altea’s resurrection, it won’t erase the fact that almost everyone she knew is still gone.

Keith knows what Lance is really asking. _I want her to be surrounded by family on what should be one of the happiest days of her life, to know that we’ll always be there for her._

Honestly, Keith understands that sentiment because he knows that, if someone had taken the time and effort to do the same for him after Pops died, it would have gone a long way.

(Then Shiro came into his life and...well, the rest is history, isn’t it?)

“ _You don’t even have to do that much work,_ ” Lance promises, going in for the kill. Damn it, Keith had evidently been silent just a little too long. “ _I already have a wedding scrapbook with very clear instructions on what I want. All you have to do is follow them._ ”

Keith isn’t even surprised about the existence of a scrapbook. He meets Lance’s determined sea-blue eyes, almost the same shade as the Blue Lion’s armour but just as fierce as Red’s fire, and knows he’s screwed. “Fine,” he sighs, “but you owe me.”

The smile on Lance’s face is far too satisfied for Keith’s liking. “ _I’ll name our first kid after you. Middle name, though, because I don’t condone child abuse, thank you very much._ ”

Keith flips him the bird but the other man simply laughs before disconnecting. _Jerk_ , Keith thinks, but not without fondness.

* * *

Shiro is waiting for him when he arrives at the Serrano-McClains’ farm on Earth a few days later. Keith takes his time parking his bike in the garage and fiddling with his helmet, and if it happens to give him more time to gather himself before facing the man he loves, then no one has to know but him.

Shiro, as always, looks good. Better than good, really. He’s wearing a different pair of glasses than the one Keith saw on him last week—it’s the same horn-rimmed style but the frames are black instead of brown. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge occasionally tease him about having reached the final form of his ‘dad friend-ness’, but Keith secretly likes the glasses. They make Shiro look like a gentleman, but one that Keith would _love_ to do ungentlemanly things with.

(Of course, he would rather die before admitting this out loud.)

“How was the flight?” Shiro asks from where he’s sitting on the front porch when Keith steps out of the garage.

Keith shrugs and brushes his hair out of his face. “It wasn’t too bad.” When he looks up, he finds Shiro staring at him, a little slack-jawed, and frowns. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Shiro turns away to clear his throat but Keith spots a faint tinge of pink dusted across his cheeks. “Ah, no, you’re fine.” He turns back to Keith with a slightly too-wide grin on his face and gestures to the door. “Shall we?” He’s already opening the door before Keith can even think to ask what that was about.

It looks like a hurricane of paperwork has hit the inside of the house. And sitting in the eye of the storm, muttering darkly at the corkboard in the living room in a way that is eerily reminiscent of Keith’s eighteen year old self back before Voltron became a part of his vocabulary, is Lance.

Keith raises an eyebrow at Shiro, who shrugs helplessly. “He was like this when I got here,” he whispers.

“And you were too scared to deal with him by yourself, which is why you were waiting for me.” Keith smirks.

Shiro gently cuffs him on the back of his neck but tellingly doesn’t object.

“Uh, Lance? You okay there, buddy?” he asks tentatively.

Lance whips his head around and Keith can’t help comparing him to a mad scientist. He’s missing the lab coat but the somewhat manic look in his eyes and the way his usually neatly combed hair is sticking up make up for it. “Oh thank crow, you’re here!”

Before Keith can even think of changing his mind and escaping, Lance jumps out of his seat and drags them over to the table with more strength than his lean figure would suggest. Now that he’s closer to the chaos, Keith realizes that what he mistook as normal pieces of paper are actually wedding invitations.

And there are a _lot_ of them.

“Here’s the guest list,” says Lance, shoving the infamous scrapbook in their faces once they’re seated next to each other. “Make a check mark next to each name once you’re done.”

“Um, done with _what?_ ” Keith asks, perhaps stupidly, because he has a feeling he knows where this is going and can already feel his wrist beginning to cramp while memories of learning how to write in cursive in elementary school assault him.

“Writing the invites, of course,” Lance replies, even as he’s already turning away to face the corkboard once again. It even has maps and strings— _colour-coded_ ones at that.

Keith knows that he wasn’t exactly the picture of sanity during his year in the desert but Lance is currently giving that version of him a run for his money, which is both a hilarious and mildly terrifying thought.

“And what will you be doing?” Shiro asks skeptically. He eyes the pen closest to him like it’s a rattlesnake. Keith sympathizes.

“Trying to figure out the seating chart so we can put off the next intergalactic war for at least another millennium,” Lance explains matter-of-factly. He moves one of the post-its on the board to another spot and tacks a piece of yellow string on it. He glances at them from over his shoulder. “Unless that’s what _you_ want to be doing instead.”

Suddenly, the thousands and thousands of blank wedding invitations don’t look so bad to Keith after all.

He and Shiro start writing names down like they’re in an exam with only five minutes left on the clock. Well, _Keith_ is, anyway.

He has to pause every once in a while when his arms brush up against Shiro’s, sending sparks of electricity through the sleeve of his jacket, to his skin, and into his nerves.

Shiro either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because every time Keith glances at him, the older man smiles at him, making the crow’s feet around his eyes stand out.

It’s not the first time Keith wants to run his thumbs over them and he’s not naive enough to think it will be the last time, either.

 _You are absolutely hopeless_ , Krolia’s voice scolds him in the back of his head.

* * *

Luckily, the army of Alteans that now serves Allura, along with a number of Coalition members, are taking the brunt of the more administrative tasks outlined in Lance’s “scrapbook of doom” (Pidge’s words), which makes life much easier for Keith and Shiro.

But that still doesn’t save them from the fitting session that takes place a few months later.

“I changed my mind,” Pidge declares while two Altean tailors poke and prod at the slightly too-big bubblegum pink gown she is wearing. “Allura, can I be on Lance’s team instead? Blue is a much nicer colour on me anyway.”

“And you look hideous in a dress,” says Romelle. At the glares everyone sends her, she holds her hands up, palms out, in surrender. “What? It’s nothing personal, I was only telling the truth.”

“Are all alien girls this savage?” one of Lance’s brothers whispers. Luis, Keith thinks.

Lance snorts. “You have no idea,” he answers, but his tone is undeniably fond. His gaze, Keith notices, is fixed on Allura like she is the stars to his sky.

“You look _great_ in this dress,” Allura tells Pidge loudly, beaming at her with all the force and cheer of the Earth’s sun. She sounds like she means it, too.

Keith sees Pidge’s resolve crack a second before the younger woman sighs, “Alright, fine. But only because I love you.”

A third Altean pokes his head into the room. “Your Majesty? Your dress is ready.” He nods towards Keith, Shiro, Lance, Hunk, and Lance’s brothers. “As are their suits.”

Lance shoots out of his seat and squares his shoulders with a gulp, looking like a soldier about to go off to war. Allura chuckles and pecks him on the cheek. “Go on, I know you’ll look dashing no matter what you wear.”

As Lance literally melts into the floor, Keith catches Shiro’s eyes and mimes himself retching at the PDA. Shiro gives him a disapproving look but Keith catches his lips twitching into a grin.

Moments like this, when he can get Shiro to break his professional facade even a little, are some of his favourites.

“Come on, don’t act like you wouldn’t paw at Shiro every chance you can get,” Hunk snickers to him as they’re herded into the fitting rooms.

Cheeks burning, Keith groans, “Oh, shut up.” The grin on Hunk’s face simply grows wider.

Keith knows he really has no one else to blame except himself and what he assumes is a massive neon sign hovering above his head that screams, “ _MY NAME IS KEITH KOGANE AND I HAVE A BIG FAT CRUSH ON TAKASHI SHIROGANE._ ”

The suits Lance has picked out for them are actually pretty nice. They’re navy blue and the material is vertically lined with diamonds that look like stripes from a distance. According to Lance, they’re supposed to add more dimension to the fabric. Keith never cared for formal wear that much (or at all, if he’s honest) but he has to admit that Lance has good tastes.

Lance’s suit is darker, almost a midnight blue, and Keith could swear the material actually _glitters_ under the light. He looks distinguished, having finally filled out his shoulders and cheekbones.

(It’s kind of funny, sometimes, to think about how much they’ve been through since that fateful day they found the Blue Lion in the middle of the Arizona desert. But Keith knows that, if given the chance, he wouldn’t trade any of it for the universe, not when he has a family waiting for him at the end of it all.)

All they’re missing are the bubblegum pink bowties and pocket squares that are supposed to match what Allura’s party will be wearing, but the tailors assure them that they’ll be ready by the time they have their final fitting closer to the wedding.

“Well, what do you think?” Shiro’s voice asks from somewhere at Keith’s back.

Keith turns around and—well.

_Well._

Shiro is wearing a salmon pink suit that is just a couple shades darker than Pidge and Romelle’s dresses but it complements his skin tone beautifully. Keith isn’t too proud to admit that seeing Shiro in his Garrison uniform _does_ things to him, but seeing him in a suit might just top that.

The suit make his already broad chest look even broader—Keith doesn’t know how that’s possible but he suddenly wants to find the person responsible and kiss their feet—and something about the cut of the pants somehow manages to emphasize the powerful muscles in his miles-long legs without being too tight.

Hunk whistles, “Looking dashing there, Shiro.”

Keith disagrees. Adjectives like ‘dashing’, or even ‘handsome’, don’t do Shiro justice. ‘Stunning’ and ‘gorgeous’ would be more appropriate, but Keith is afraid even that’s not enough.

Shiro chuckles. “Thanks, Hunk.” When he makes eye contact with Keith, he blinks and his mouth falls open. “Um, wow, you look good. _All_ of you,” he adds quickly, cheeks reddening.

Huh, weird.

“What can I say? I _am_ a man of culture, after all,” Lance preens. He wraps his arm around Keith’s shoulders and pats him on the chest. “If I can make even Keith here look good, I can do anything.”

“I’m not afraid to stab you, you know, fancy suit or not,” Keith tells him, shrugging his arm off. “Allura will understand.”

Shiro chuckles again. “Keith would look good in anything,” he says sincerely.

Keith feels fire spread from the pit of his stomach all the way to his face and has to duck his head to hide it from view.

“Lance, can you come over here for a tick?” Allura’s voice calls out from the other side of the door. “I want to get your opinion on my dress.”

Lance suddenly stiffens. “Wait, _what?_ Oh no, absolutely not!”

“Why not?”

Lance flails. It’s a sight that never fails to warm the cockles of Keith’s heart. “Because the groom’s not supposed to see the bride in her dress before the wedding! It’s bad luck!”

They hear Pidge snort while Romelle lets out a huff. “Is this another one of your weird Earthling rules?”

“It’s tradition!”

Shiro pats Lance on the back. “How about I go have a look? Is that okay?” When neither Lance or Allura objects, he makes his way out the door.

A few tense minutes pass before Shiro returns. His eyes seem brighter and wetter than they were earlier.

“Well? How was it?” Hunk asks eagerly.

“Yeah, give us the deets,” Marco demands.

Shiro shakes his head at their antics. “Nope. Allura told me that if Lance is going to be serious about not knowing what her dress looks like, then she’ll respect his wishes until the wedding.” He winks at Lance. “But what I will say is Lance sure is a lucky man.”

A dreamy expression takes over Lance’s face. Keith would normally make fun of him for it, but he knows that’s what he looks like whenever he’s in the same vicinity as Shiro and...well, glass houses and all that. “I really am,” Lance sighs happily.

Keith has to look away, suddenly imagining the same expression on Shiro’s face in the future, but directed at Curtis instead of him.

* * *

Keith and Shiro may have gotten off easy with the general wedding stuff, but the one thing Lance is absolutely adamant about them doing is organizing the stag and doe.

“The what now?” Keith asks, half a sandwich in his mouth.

On his screen, Shiro chuckles. Keith tries to wipe his mouth discreetly. “ _A stag and doe,_ ” Shiro repeats. “ _It’s basically the bachelor and bachelorette parties combined into one._ ”

“Shiro, I’ve only been invited to one wedding in my entire life and it’s _this_ one. And I know less about planning parties!”

“ _Then it’s a good thing I’ve been to a few myself, isn’t it?_ ” Shiro gives him a fond look, like Keith just did something _endearing_. He also doesn’t sound surprised about this piece of information at all.

Then again, Shiro arguably knows Keith better than anyone else in the universe, including Krolia. Keith knows his old self—his angry, broken, destructive teenage self—would have hated being read like an open book to _anyone_ , but he finds it comforting that it’s Shiro.

“ _Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of the venue; Lance already has some suggestions in The Scrapbook,_ ” Shiro continues. Keith can hear the capitalization of the words, ‘the scrapbook’. “ _I know you’ve got your hands full with the Blades._ ”

“But what about you?” Keith asks, feeling guilty. “What about the Garrison?”

“ _Sam is threatening to put me on leave for a year if I don’t finally take some of the time off I’ve accrued,_ ” Shiro confesses sheepishly.

Keith will never, ever admit it out loud, but Shiro looks so damn adorable when he’s embarrassed

(Well, he’s always gorgeous no matter what, but that’s irrelevant.)

“Is there anything I can do, though? I mean, I know Lance basically blackmailed me into it but I’m still his best man, so I feel like I should at least try to be useful.”

Shiro lets out a soft laugh and it’s still one of Keith’s favourite sounds in the universe. “ _If you can somehow get your hands on some of that Montresson ale we had at Allura’s coronation after-party, we’ll be set._ ”

“I can do that,” Keith immediately replies, eager to make Shiro’s life easier.

“ _I know,_ ” Shiro tells him, like there was never any doubt in his mind. “ _Anyway, how have you been?_ ”

From there, it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of casual chatter. They gossip about mutual Garrison and Blade acquaintances, as well as catch up on everything else the other has been up to in between wedding preparations.

Even though this is the first time they’ve been able to talk like this in a long time—thanks in no small part to Keith being a coward—they pick up where they left off as if time and distance don’t matter.

By the time the computer on Keith’s ship lets him know that he’s arrived at his destination, he realizes that they’ve been talking non-stop for over an hour. But it feels like no time has passed at all.

“ _Okay, I should probably let you go now,_ ” says Shiro. He gives Keith a warm smile. “ _I’ll see you soon._ ”

“Yeah, you too.”

Keith signs off with a smile that doesn’t leave his face for the rest of the day, not even when Krolia and Acxa tease him goodnaturedly about it when he returns to the base.

* * *

Lance and Allura’s stag and doe is in full swing when Lance stumbles up to Keith and Shiro by the bar, sixth drink of the night in hand and a wide, dopey smile on his face. Shiro has to grab him to keep him from tripping and falling flat on his face. When he shoots Keith a disapproving look for not helping, Keith simply shrugs.

 _Hey, it’s not my fault Lance can’t handle his drink_ , he thinks smugly as he takes a sip from his seventh beer of the night.

“Keeeef! Shirooo!” Lance cries, reaching up and petting at Shiro’s chest as he makes something that Keith supposes _could_ be called an attempt in righting himself. “Guys, I need you to know...that I love you both _so much_. This is the best dag and stoe I’ve ever had!” he slurs.

Keith spots Allura making her way towards them. The crowd on the dance floor parts for her like ocean waves being called back to the sea. There is nothing but love in her eyes as she pats Lance on the back and helps Shiro get him upright. “Lance, this is your first and _only_ stag and doe,” she tells him sweetly.

Lance whirls around at the sound of her voice. “Allura!” he exclaims, like he hadn’t expected her here at all. He lets go of Shiro and flings his arms around her neck. “Babe! You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, y’know that?” He blinks and Keith can practically see the lightbulb above his head click on as an idea enters his head. “Hey, hey! Y’know what we should do? We should get married! How ‘bout it, babe? Just you and me.”

Allura laughs and kisses him on the forehead. “Of course, Lance, whatever you say.”

“It’s not too late to back out, you know,” Keith stage-whispers. He laughs when Shiro elbows him in the side but the way his lips twitch belies his annoyance. Keith smirks back in response.

Allura laughs and pets Lance’s hair as her fiancé nuzzles into the crook of her neck like a goddamn cat. Keith idly wonders how Lance’s seventeen year old self would react if he could see himself now.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” More softly, Allura adds, “But thank you, really. You’ve both done a wonderful job of getting everything together, especially since I know I haven’t really been around lately.”

She doesn’t have to explain. They all know that it isn’t easy being queen, no matter how much she may love her work.

Shiro is already waving her off. “You have _nothing_ to thank us for, Allura. This is really the least we can do after everything you’ve done for us.”

 _For the whole universe_ , Keith thinks but doesn’t say. He knows both Shiro and Allura can hear him, or at least get a sense of what he’s feeling, because Allura gives him a wet smile while Shiro squeezes his shoulder. It’s as much a comforting weight now as it was back when they first met.

“I think it’s about time I put my husband-to-be to bed,” Allura announces eventually. When Keith and Shiro make noises about helping her, she waves them off. “Go, enjoy yourselves, gentlemen. You deserve it.” She rearranges Lance’s limbs like a puppeteer would a puppet until she’s carrying him bridal-style out of the bar. A number of guests, including Pidge and Hunk, cheer her on.

Shiro turns to Keith with a mischievous trickster’s grin on his face, one that Keith is intimately acquainted with. It’s the exact same grin he gets on his face just before he does something incredibly reckless, like diving over cliff edges with nothing but his bike and a prayer.

“You heard the lady. Come on, dance with me,” he says.

“How much have you been drinking?” Keith laughs, but doesn’t resist when Shiro tugs him onto the dance floor with his left hand.

Keith never learned how to dance but it’s not hard to mimic what everyone else is doing, even if he does end up looking like an awkward octopus. Shiro doesn’t seem to care, though, because the smile on his face widens as he copies Keith’s moves.

Keith doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol finally catching up to him or the consequence of simply being _near_ Shiro, but he easily lets his body fall into the rhythm of the music blasting all around him.

He dips Shiro at one point and Shiro responds by twirling him with his prosthetic, spinning him much further than he would have been able to if he used his left arm. Then the prosthetic draws him back, spinning him in reverse, and Keith lets himself get pulled back to Shiro like a comet to a planet’s orbit.

Until he ends up getting pressed right up against Shiro, one hand on the taller man’s chest and the other still holding onto his prosthetic. He feels Shiro’s left hand, so warm it’s almost _scalding_ on the small of his back. He blinks up at Shiro, dazed; this close, he can smell the other man’s cologne. It reminds Keith of the way the air smells just before a storm.

Shiro is smiling down at him, cloud-grey eyes twinkling under the bar’s dim lights. “Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi,” Keith says breathlessly.

Keith is distantly aware that they’re not alone, but the rest of his body doesn’t seem to care, content to stay exactly where he is for now ( _forever_ ). Shiro doesn’t move or look away either.

Something in Shiro’s expression shifts. Keith can’t put a name to it but it both exhilarates and terrifies him. “Keith, I…”

Shiro bends his head forward and Keith, hypnotized, follows. They’re so close now that Keith can feel the other man’s breath caress his skin and it makes his heart stutter.

Is this really happening? Are they really going to—

Someone jostles Shiro from behind, nearly sending both of them to the floor, and the moment’s over. Keith looks over Shiro’s shoulder to find Matt, face flushed with alcohol, grinning apologetically at them. “Sorry!” he shouts, just before his android girlfriend pulls him back into the crowd.

Keith spots the top of Curtis’s head in the middle of it all. He seems to be dancing with someone from the Garrison, blissfully unaware of what his boyfriend had almost done.

Keith feels something heavy and cold drop to the pit of his stomach.

Shiro huffs out a frustrated sigh. He still hasn’t let go of Keith yet. “Asshole,” he murmurs under his breath. He grins when he meets Keith’s gaze again. “So, I don’t know about you, but—“

“I gotta go,” Keith blurts out. It seems to shock Shiro enough into letting go of him when he takes a deliberately wide step back. “Um, I’ve got a...I’ve got some last minute stuff with the Blade to take care of tomorrow,” he lies.

Shiro frowns, looking so much like a kicked puppy that Keith almost takes it back. Almost, because Curtis is _right there_.

And Keith, for all that he wants to be selfish and just take the kiss that Shiro was almost undoubtedly offering, can’t bring himself to cross that last boundary between them.

Shiro is probably drunk and Keith never ever wants to take advantage of him, especially not after all that has happened to him in the war.

“Keith? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Keith replies, just a bit too quickly. “Anyway, I—I should let you go. Curtis is probably wondering where you’ve been.”

Shiro’s brows furrow, like he’s confused. “What does Curtis have to—“

“I’ll see you at the wedding.”

And then Keith flees.

* * *

Keith wakes up the next morning to a short voice message from Hunk on his tablet.

When he opens it, he’s treated to Hunk’s voice declaring, in a disbelieving tone, “ _Keith Kogane, you are an idiot._ ”

 _What else is new_ , Keith thinks to himself before rolling over and going back to sleep.

* * *

Pidge is the first of the bridal party to enter the palace. Contrary to Romelle’s opinion, she looks _fantastic_ in her dress.

“Can you see her?” Lance whispers. His back is facing the door—something to do with an Altean wedding tradition based on a myth that had reminded Keith eerily of the story of Orpheus and Eurydice when Coran explained it to them—but Keith, Hunk, Marco, and Luis are free to look all they want.

“Not yet, buddy,” Hunk whispers. If possible, he sounds even more excited than Lance.

Romelle is next, followed by Liefsdottir, Rizavi, and, finally, Allura.

Awed gasps echo around Keith and he finds himself joining them. Allura is easily one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever met, but, at this moment, she is devastatingly ethereal.

Her dress is a diamond white sleeveless [ballgown](https://66.media.tumblr.com/4cfbdf47719a7a342cd1ffaa653ea3f4/tumblr_n3mgt2KUMr1qg2ligo4_1280.jpg) that makes Keith think of that old _Cinderella_ movie that he watched over and over again during his first couple of years at the foster home. A simple but elegant gold lace pattern has been woven over her dress and the way it reflects the light from the chandeliers makes her glow like a goddess. She is wearing a long, transparent [veil laced with stars](https://66.media.tumblr.com/6b9adbff0507e3fe73598b694c17ba5e/tumblr_ok8pky8HIt1r67fl8o2_540.jpg). It trails behind her like swirling constellations, and holding onto the end of it is—

Keith can almost hear the sound of a record scratching in his head as all his thoughts come to a grinding halt.

If he thought Shiro looked gorgeous during the fitting, he looks unbelievably, breathtakingly beautiful now.

“Wow,” Keith hears himself say, unbidden.

“‘Wow’ is right,” Marco murmurs next to him, sounding dazed. “Lance, you lucky _conejito_.”

Lance begins to turn his head but Coran, who is officiating the wedding, stops him with a hand on the back of his neck. “Don’t you dare,” he scolds.

“Remember what Shiro always says?” Keith smirks. “‘Patience…’”

“‘...yields focus,’ I _know_ ,” Lance grumbles.

“Oh quiznak, I promised I wouldn’t cry,” Hunk sniffs quietly. Luis wordlessly hands him a handkerchief.

The rest of them—along with the thousands and thousands of guests—watch, transfixed, as Allura continues down the aisle until she reaches the steps. She hands her bouquet over to Pidge before tapping Lance on the shoulder, letting him know that he can turn around now.

Lance looks like he has just been struck by lightning. “Whoa, Allura, you’re…”

Allura giggles. She’s smiling from ear to ear and her eyes are full of so much joy and love that Keith is surprised none of it has spilled over yet. “You know, there might be something to that weird Earthling tradition of yours,” she tells him in a lilting voice as she takes his hands in hers.

Coran clears his throat. “Dearly beloved,” he begins to say, throat hoarse, “we are gathered here today to celebrate not only a union, but also a triumph…”

Keith tunes him out, having already heard his speech during the rehearsal dinner the day before. He scans the hall, looking for both familiar and new faces. He immediately spots Lance’s family in the front row and there is not a dry eye among them. Krolia and Kolivan, along with a number of Blades, are seated a few rows away. Krolia gives him a subtle wave, looking proud.

He smiles and begins to turn his attention back to Coran.

He meets Shiro’s gaze and has to stop. Shiro smiles at him, so soft and lovely, and Keith feels something in his chest constrict.

If Keith doesn’t know better, he’d think that Shiro is looking at him the same way Lance and Allura are gazing at each other right now, like their entire world is right in front of them.

And, for just a moment, Keith lets himself pretend that this is real, that the love in Shiro’s eyes is all for him.

* * *

Keith is in the middle of arguing over the proposed specs of the next generation of MFE jets with Veronica when he hears Shiro whisper in his ear, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

He jolts, nearly spilling his drink, while Veronica smiles beatifically at him before excusing herself, ignoring Keith’s glare. She probably saw Shiro coming from a mile away but didn’t say anything, the jerk.

He turns around to face Shiro again, who’s still watching him expectantly. He’s taken his suit jacket off and is holding it in his prosthetic while his other hand is resting on his hip. Keith licks his lips unconsciously and immediately wants to die.

It is _so unfair_ how handsome Shiro is.

“I haven’t,” Keith lies.

“You’re lying,” Shiro tells him, but he doesn’t sound offended at all. He drops his jacket on the bar and stretches his left hand out. “Dance with me?”

Keith gulps. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please?”

It’s the combination of the ‘please,’ uttered with so much quiet desperation, and the glimmer in Shiro’s eyes that makes Keith’s walls crumble.

He takes Shiro’s hand and lets himself be led out onto the dance floor. It’s a slow song, the complete opposite of what had been played at the stag and doe. Shiro pulls Keith in until their chests are touching and rests his prosthetic on the small of Keith’s back. Keith delicately places his hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

“You were trying to kiss me the other night, weren’t you?” Shiro asks nonchalantly as they begin to sway to the music.

Keith stops breathing. “Shiro, I—”

“And then you ran away and I wondered if I had done something wrong,” Shiro continues, unhindered. “But I think I finally figured it out.”

He nods towards the tables and Keith follows his gaze, eventually landing on Curtis, who’s—

—passionately making out with one of the Alteans they rescued from one of Honerva’s Robeasts. Tavo, Keith thinks his name is. He whips his head back to Shiro, fully expecting to see a heartbroken expression on his best friend’s face, but Shiro is _smiling_ , of all things.

“...I’m missing something, aren’t I?” he says eventually.

Shiro chuckles and twirls him in time with the song. When Keith comes back, Shiro pulls him close and whispers in his ear. “Curtis and I broke up months ago, before Lance even proposed. We kept it quiet because we didn’t want to be in the spotlight again, especially after we first started dating. I just assumed you and everyone else on the team would have figured it out when I stopped bringing him to our dinners.”

Keith doesn’t have to look in a mirror to know that he definitely looks like a goldfish right now. “I—but— _what?_ ” he stammers.

Shiro chuckles again, looking fond. “That’s just what happens sometimes,” he continues pleasantly. “People either change or they realize that what they thought they wanted wasn’t actually what they needed. And then they have to make a decision.” He stops and looks straight into Keith’s eyes, as if silently willing him to understand. “I’ve already made mine.”

_People either change or they realize that what they thought they wanted wasn’t actually what they needed._

Keith’s heart starts beating erratically against his ribcage. He gulps and tightens his grip Shiro’s shoulder as the weight of the other man’s words hit him right in the chest with the force of a bullet.

“And what did you decide?” he whispers. He’s suddenly desperately afraid that this is all a dream hanging on a precipice, that even speaking the words out loud could shatter this moment.

Shiro lets go of his hand, only to gently—oh so gently—cup his cheek. “Curtis isn’t the one I need or want. It’s you, Keith, it’s always been you.”

_It’s always been you._

The ballroom around them disappear and Keith is suddenly standing at the threshold of a dark room on a Castle far, far away from here. In the room is a bed and on the bed is the man he loves. He has more scars than the last time Keith had seen him and his hair is longer, but he’s still just as beautiful as ever because he’s _alive_ and he’s _here_.

The man looks up, smiles at him, and asks, _How many times are you going to save me before this is over?_

Keith feels himself smile as well and answers honestly, _As many times as it takes._

Then he blinks and he’s back in the ballroom of another palace, gazing up at the same man he loves.

“You too,” he says breathlessly. “It’s—There’s never been anyone else but you.”

Shiro’s smile is, in Keith’s humble opinion, brighter than the sun.

He feels the press of soft lips against his, of his body being pressed closer to Shiro’s warmth, and succumbs to it without resistance. He wraps his arms around Shiro’s neck, aching for more, more, _more_ , even with the knowledge that there’s nowhere else for either of them to go.

Distantly, he hears Hunk triumphantly crooning, “Pay up, Pidge!” and Lance sighing, in an exasperated yet fond tone, “Holy crow, could you guys stop stealing the spotlight for just one quiznaking minute? It’s my wedding, for crying out loud.”

He hears Allura’s laugh ring in the air like wind chimes. He remembers Pops once telling him that it’s a sign of good luck.

 _Maybe there is something to that superstition after all_ , he thinks as he slowly, reluctantly breaks the kiss, though neither he or Shiro let go.

He looks up into Shiro’s stormy grey eyes and thinks that he could drown in them so, so easily.

Shiro gives him an impish smile, one that Keith immediately wants to kiss from him, and tangles their fingers together. “Want to get out of here?” he asks, in the exact same tone he used the first time he brought Keith out to the desert on his bike.

Keith nods and squeezes his hand.

 _Always_.

**Author's Note:**

> (Title taken from the lyrics of _Hello My Old Heart_ by The Oh Hellos)
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated! Please feel free to yell at me about Voltron or anything else at my [Tumblr](http://britomarttis.tumblr.com) and/or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/britomarttis).


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